


teru teru bozu

by CurieuxAnges



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Childhood Friends, M/M, ghost au, suicide TW
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-03 14:28:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13343166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CurieuxAnges/pseuds/CurieuxAnges
Summary: When Victor was young, he had a friend no one else could see.--a ghost au in which Yuuri is a ghost and Victor's childhood best friend





	1. laughter

**Author's Note:**

> the title of this fic may not make sense at the beginning but please bear with me! hopefully it'll make more sense along the way. warning: this fic will tackle some pretty dark themes such as death/suicide. please keep this in mind as the fic progresses. i'll try to update this as often as i can ^_^ feedback is always appreciated!

When Victor was young, he had a friend no one else could see. His mother said he merely had an overactive imagination, and his father said much the same. They had both believed that it was merely the musings of a young and somewhat lonely child; that he would grow out of it eventually and find real friends. Friends who he could talk to when he was older and not be seen as insane because of it. But for now they left it be.

Victor sat in his room, playing with his plush toys and his friend Yuuri. He sat them down at his table and gave him some paper and shared his crayons, but Yuuri didn’t draw. He always said he was no good at it, even when Victor tried to convince him otherwise. He smiled softly at him and drew enough for the both of them. He talked as he did so to make sure his friend was always entertained.

This was their day to day life. Victor would encourage Yuuri to try going on the swings, but the younger boy would be too shy and would hide from him. Victor would invite Yuuri to take a dip in the pool with him, but the poor boy would say that he didn’t know how to swim. Victor would try to teach Yuuri how to play on his Gameboy, but Yuuri would frighten at the littlest movement from the screen.

Then came the day when Victor started taking up ice skating. The lessons took up most of his time and he was rarely home anymore—and on the rare occasion that he _was_ home he was bone tired and just wanted to rest. Yuuri though, neglected and alone in their house, wanted nothing more than to play with his friend. So one day he followed him to a big building, where the floor was made of ice.

He marveled at his surroundings, having been cooped up for so long that everything seemed new. He could vaguely remember seeing a floor made of ice too himself, but that was long ago. It was a lake or maybe a pond in the forest behind their old house. He wasn’t quite sure where that was anymore. Maybe this is that place?

He went around the place, wandering close to the ice but not daring to step on it. It didn’t take long before he caught Victor’s eye. He smiled that familiar heart-shaped smile and Yuuri beamed at him. Maybe this time he could play with his friend again!

On the way to him Victor tripped, the pick of his skates digging into the ice. He fell flat on his face and for a moment Yuuri was silent, then he burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of his friend. Victor smiled as he dusted himself off. That is until a nearby lightbulb burst and the power seemed to fluctuate.

Yuuri was oblivious to this and continued to laugh. The longer it went on, the more the electricity and electric powered devices in the vicinity malfunctioned. Victor guessed that maybe Yuuri was the root cause of the power malfunction and tried to get him to calm down.

Yuuri looked around the rink, at the panic on some people’s faces and the broken electronics and lightbulbs and he seemed to shrink in on himself. Not again!

“I’m sorry Victor!” Yuuri said, fear in his eyes. Victor shook his head and tried to calm his friend. “I just wanted to play! Honest!”


	2. tears

The rest of the Russian team at the time only looked on with confusion. The older skaters and the coaches thought, much like his parents, that Victor was merely an imaginative child. In general it was assumed that Victor talking to an invisible being and the timing of the events were only coincidence and nothing more.

Victor tried to squeeze in more time to play with Yuuri after learning how his friend had felt neglected and alone in the past few days—weeks even! He tried to leave as early as he could for practice and stay later during the mornings before practice started. He tried minimizing his outside activities and spent as much of his time awake with Yuuri. But he couldn’t keep up with such a schedule when school came around.

This time Victor made sure to tell Yuuri before he made the changes in his schedule. He would have even less time now! He just hoped Yuuri wouldn’t get mad at him.

“I’m really sorry, Yuuri! I’ll try to get home as soon as possible—,” Victor said.

“But that’s not enough time! Why can’t we just play like we used to??” Yuuri said, nearly in tears.

“Because!”

“Because what??” Yuuri asked. At this point Victor could feel a cold breeze come through the open windows.

“B-because…I have to work hard in school so I can buy us more toys!”

“But I don’t want toys!! I want Victor!!” Yuuri exclaimed, scared of feeling lonely again.

The weather outside was becoming gloomier by the second. Rain had started to lightly pour, as did Yuuri’s tears.

“Don’t cry Yuuri!” Victor said in an attempt to comfort his friend. He thought for a moment about a way he could console his friend.

Yuuri felt all the more scared when it seemed like his friend was going to end their talk at that. The rain outside had become a full blown downpour while Victor racked his mind for ideas and compromises.

“How about this, Sunday can be our day!” Victor suggested. “We can play, go outside, whatever you want! I’ll be sure to finish my homework and double my trainings on Saturdays so that on Sundays I’ll be all yours!”

Yuuri had calmed down marginally at this, thinking it wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. He ran it over in his head a few times before deciding it was better than not getting to play with Victor at all.

The downpour outside calmed. There was only a light pitter patter of rain when Yuuri asked “Do you promise?”

Victor, without hesitation, replied “I promise,” crossing his heart and raising his hand in oath.


	3. anger

Victor broke his promise. It was on a Sunday two years after he had made his promise to Yuuri. He did his best to make sure his schedule on Sunday was clear, but he couldn’t exactly move the date of a regional competition. He hoped Yuuri would understand.

Victor went home as early as possible. He kicked off his shoes, dropped his bags and ran to his room. Only to find all of his toys strewn everywhere, crayons broken, and everything just generally in disarray. He looked around and saw Yuuri on the bed, head bent and hidden, crying his eyes out.

“Yuuri?” he asked softly, carefully approaching the frightened child. “It’s me, Victor.”

The door slammed behind him, making him jump. “Yuuri, I’m sorry I missed our play date…I didn’t mean to! There was nothing—“

“YOU PROMISED!!” Yuuri wailed. “You promised me! Sunday is play day! Yuuri and Victor day! You _promised!”_ he yelled.

Some plush toys flew across the room, most at random.

“Yuuri please! My hands were tied!” he tried to reason.

“We were okay! You kept your promise for TWO YEARS!” Yuuri yelled again.

The toys started flying closer and closer to where Victor stood. All the while, Yuuri only had his head on his arms. He felt hurt, and at that moment he couldn’t pinpoint why the pain was so extreme. Still he was a child, a small child who was afraid and didn’t know how to cope with his fear.

“I’m sorry!” Victor yelled. Yuuri sobbed and a toy—a doll that was mostly plush with hard plastic hands, shoes and face—hit Victor on the head.

The older boy stumbled backwards, feeling fear himself now. He crawled backwards, moving away from Yuuri for the first time since they had met. Yuuri noticed the silence and, out of curiosity, looked up.

Yuuri’s expression changed immediately from hurt to concern. He unfolded his legs and stood up, taking a few steps towards his friend only to have Victor move backwards with every step he took.

Yuuri’s eyebrows knitted together. “Victor? Why are you moving away? You’re hurt…”

He reached out a hand and Victor visibly flinched. Yuuri stayed where he was as his friend hurried out of the room and out of the house to where his parents were. Yuuri sat down in the middle of the room, head bowed in sorrow.

He never understood why but he never saw Victor again after that day. Sunrises and sunsets had come and gone—at this point it was more than he could count. Still he waited, wandering only in or around the house. A tell-tale sign that he was there was the old swing set in the backyard rocking to and fro despite the lack of a breeze.


	4. hiraeth

In the years that passed, Victor had made a name for himself. He was a star during his junior years, and a living legend later on. He had travelled the world, made countless friends and acquaintances. It was during this time that he thought maybe his life was hitting its peak.

One day on a whim, he flew back to his family house. When he got there the garden was unkempt. The bushes were formless, the hedge was uneven, the floor was littered with branches and leaves, and all around vines crept. Still the place felt like home. Victor walked in, paying no mind to the creak of the swing nearby.

As he went through the house, he made a mental note of all the other things that have changed over the decade or so that he had been gone. The walls were a bit discolored, dust had collected everywhere, and the once vibrant paintings found everywhere in their little mansion were now dull and seemingly lifeless. Everything felt like it had been preserved in a time capsule.

Victor turned around when he heard the soft sounds of a music box. He walked towards his parents’ room where it had been left. He studied it for a few minutes, wondering how it could’ve possibly turned on without the key. Soon after he heard what sounded like a voice. As he got closer to the source, he heard more and more noises. A small toy car whirring about, the boots of a toy cowboy stomping on the floor, and a little voice that seemed to be muttering to itself.

He pushed the door of the room, peeking in and seeing toys move on their own. The motions, albeit minute, were still there. The cowboy bounced slightly, just enough for his boots to make a sound on the floor; A toy doll nodded, as if someone had their hand behind its head. He raised an eyebrow and, despite his better judgement and the warnings from several horror movies over the years, stepped into the room.

“H-Hello…?” he called out. “Who’s there? Why are you in my room?”

Victor felt a sudden chill down his spine, and he could swear the sun shone a little brighter outside. He heard the little voice whispering once more, but even though he was in close proximity with the source, he couldn’t quite make out what it was saying.

“I can’t understand,” he said. “Could you speak louder?”

Immediately after he said those words, the brightness he had seen earlier disappeared, the room had lost its eerie feel and unnaturally cold temperature, and all the little toys stopped moving. A little later on, Victor was able to hear the swing set outside start moving once more.


	5. invisible

Victor, much like any other person in this day and age, decided to ask google for help. Some sources told him to sage the place, some told him to communicate with dousing rods or Ouija board or spirit box. In the end he decided on contacting a medium that resided in the nearby town.

He and the medium, Mari, headed to his childhood home as soon as they could. Upon their arrival they could hear the distinct creak of an old and rusty swing.

 “Over there,” she said. Victor looked and there was nothing to see. The swing set stopped moving and he just assumed it was merely a coincidence. The medium shook her head at him.

They moved through each room in the house, coming to a stop in his childhood bedroom.

“He’s here,” she said, stepping in.

“Can you see him?” Victor asked, looking around for any signs of what might be inhabiting the room.

“No. He doesn’t want to be seen. But that doesn’t mean we can’t pick up on the traces he’s left behind.”

She sat down in the center of the room, taking in the energy around her. Victor sat down, copied her pose, but ultimately just looked like he was making a fool of himself.

“Do you have any paper? A pen?” Mari asked after minutes of silence.

Victor brightened up. Finally! Something! He scrambled to look for some scraps of paper and some crayons he had surely left lying about. He handed it to her as soon as he could and watched carefully as she drew…a ghost costume?

Victor wasn’t one to mock someone else’s art skills, having little to no art skills himself, but he had assumed a medium would draw something better than something a child would wear to Halloween.

Granted it was adorable, a little smiling face and a rope around its neck. It almost looked like a child’s toy.

“Victor…tell me. Do you know the history of this house?” she asked him.

“Not really,” he answered, frowning at her. “I just know that someone had owned this place before my parents bought it. They had purchased the place before I was born though, so I can’t be of much help.” Victor sighed.

“I could call my parents though! Surely they would know something!” He offered.

Mari nodded, leaving Victor to collect hopefully enough information to explain the one image in her mind that wouldn’t leave. She had a vague memory about something of the sort—cloth wrapped around balls and tied with a string—from her mother’s stories about Japan. But she couldn’t recall them having little legs dangling from the bottom.


End file.
